


Christmas Cookies

by Lumoa



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas Cookies, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumoa/pseuds/Lumoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is making Christmas cookies, and Sherlock finds the smells that linger on John rather...erotic. Pure Smut and Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Cookies

Sherlock didn't know how he let John talk him into this.

He scowled as he stared at the Christmas tree standing in the center of their living room. The whole house smelled of pine needles and some strange cinnamon smell that Sherlock couldn't pinpoint the origin of. John had hung a wreath on the door, and Sherlock kept finding little pieces of tinsel everywhere.

Why John had wanted to celebrate this holiday was beyond Sherlock. Neither of them were exactly devout Christians. John had made some argument about it being a time for family, to which Sherlock reminded him that in no way did he want to spend any time with Mycroft.

John was out at the moment, doing some Christmas shopping or something of that nature. Sherlock hadn't bothered to ask since at that moment he had been wrapped up in an experiment dealing with the eyeballs he had been keeping in the freezer the past week. Sadly that experiment had ended up as a dead end and Sherlock was left bored without John around.

Sherlock slid down in his chair, continuously glaring at the Christmas tree.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

DING!

Sherlock's attention was immediately drawn to his phone. Picking it up, he frowned at the message.

_To: Sherlock_

Stop sulking. I need you over here right now.

_From: Mycroft_

Sherlock scowled at the phone and quickly texted his reply back.

_To: Mycroft_

I am not sulking. Stop watching me through your cameras.

_From: Sherlock_

_To: Sherlock_

Sherlock, there is a car outside waiting for you. Get in.

_From: Mycroft_

Sherlock sat in the chair for a few minutes, just to antagonize his brother, before sighing and getting up. He didn't fancy being dragged out by guards again (not that he cared, but it bothered and worried Mrs. Hudson) so he slowly moved to change into warmer clothing. Sherlock pulled on his jacket and scarf and stepped outside.

His breath was easily visible as soon as he stepped out. It was freezing, and according to the weather report, it was possible they would be having a white Christmas this year. It seemed rather stupid of people to want snow on the ground during Christmas, but no other time of the year.

Sherlock might have stepped up his pace a bit to get into the warmth of the car Mycroft had sent for him. He slid in, breathing a slight sigh of content as the comfortable warmth surrounded him.

Sherlock was semi-surprised to see Mycroft waiting in the car for him. Normally his brother loved the whole dramatic bit with sending some random woman to pick people up, taking them to an undisclosed location (almost always an abandoned building).

"Mycroft," Sherlock greeted.

"Hello Sherlock, it's good to see you are doing well this holiday season." Mycroft said airily. Sherlock let out a slightly disgruntled noise and stared out the window. Mycroft gave the driver instructions to drive around for a bit before turning his gaze back to Sherlock.

"How is Doctor Watson doing?" He asked mildly. Sherlock shot him a look.

"He's fine."

Mycroft raised his eyebrows at the short answer.

"He's insisting that we celebrate Christmas, he even made me buy presents for Molly, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock sighed.

"Yes, I saw. Very nice presents for all of them, although John had to hold your hand and guide you through buying them," Mycroft said.

"Did you just invite me out here to nag me about my social skills or was there actually a point Mycroft?" Sherlock asked.

In response, Mycroft pulled out two small wrapped gifts from his pockets and handed them to Sherlock. Confused, Sherlock looked down on them and was surprised to see John's name written on one, and his on another.

"John sent me the gift you both bought for me, and I was pleasantly surprised. It was very kind of you to remember that I enjoyed calligraphy. I love the pen and inkwell you bought me, it's both useful and thoughtful." Mycroft smiled, looking actually pleased.

Sherlock shifted in his seat, a bit embarrassed. "It was John's idea," he muttered.

"It was John's idea to buy me a gift, but I don't ever recall speaking to him about my calligraphy hobby." Mycroft pointed out, ignoring Sherlock's embarrassed look.

"Yes, well…" Sherlock continued to look at the presents in his hand.

Mycroft merely let out a light laugh, and gestured at the door. "We have arrived back at your flat, have a good Christmas Sherlock."

Sherlock jerkily nodded and quickly exited the car, quickly opening up the door to 221B and shutting it firmly behind him.

That was…interesting…Sherlock grimaced, carefully cradling the presents in his hands.

Sudden noises from the kitchen grabbed his attention and Sherlock placed the presents at the bottom of the tree before going in to check on what was going on.

He was greeted with the sight of John slightly covered in flour and the kitchen looking like someone had just thrown the entire baking section of the grocery store into their kitchen.

"Oh, hello Sherlock!" John started, but beamed over at Sherlock. He came over and quickly placed a kiss on Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock licked his lips, John tasted like gingerbread and cinnamon.

"Baking cookies John?" Sherlock murmured.

"Mmmm, yup." John tilted his head up to kiss Sherlock again. Sherlock gently slid his tongue into John's mouth, enjoying the taste of gingerbread and cinnamon. He began to press his lips more insistently against John's, swallowing the small moans and gasps John was releasing.

"Sherlock," John gasped, "Sherlock not now."

Sherlock ignored him and stopped kissing John's mouth in favor of trailing his lips down John's neck. The sweet taste continued onto John's skin and Sherlock hummed his enjoyment. He moved his hands down to cup John's rear, bringing them closer together.

"Sherlock!" John suddenly pushed Sherlock away. Sherlock sighed his disagreement, but allowed John to pull back. In return he was greeted with the pleasant sight of John's flushed face and slightly swollen lips.

"Sherlock I'm making cookies, if we have sex now they'll burn!" John scolded. Sherlock crowded up in his space again, pressing John against the table.

"Then we'll just have to be quick, won't we?" He whispered into John's ear. He could already feel John hardening against him, and Sherlock smirked in victory.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Sherlock groaned and dropped his head against John's shoulder. John laughed and patted Sherlock's head, gently pushing him away. "Sorry Sherlock. Oven's preheated."

John placed some oven mitts on his hands and took two sheets of cookies and placed them in the oven. Sherlock leaned against the table and sulked. John glanced back at him and chuckled.

"I'm surprised you managed to get all of this so quickly," Sherlock groused, "normally it takes you much longer to get the groceries."

John looked slightly abashed, "I don't always take long to get the groceries."

"No, only when you fight with the pin and chip machine, which seems to be most of the time," Sherlock snorted.

"Actually I did have a problem with one today," John said, "I would have taken longer but this nice girl McKenzie helped me out. She said she was a fan of my blog!" John chatters on excitedly, ignoring Sherlock's continuous sulking at being cock-blocked.

For the next half hour John continuously swatted Sherlock's groping hands away as he began cleaning up the kitchen while waiting for the cookies to finish. Sherlock, in turn, took every chance he could to brush against John and generally just be in the way. At one point, John brought up the question of where Sherlock had been when John had gotten home.

"Mycroft," Sherlock mumbled into John's neck, hugging him from behind and just inhaling the sweet scent of the Christmas cookies that was left on John.

"What did he want?" John sounded curious.

"He wanted to thank me for his Christmas gift and to give me the gifts he bought us," Sherlock brushed his nose against John's neck, smirking at John's sudden inhale of breath.

"Well that was nice of him," John's voice sounded slightly strangled.

"Mhmm, I left them underneath that damn tree." Sherlock said.

"Well I happen to like our Christmas tree, Sherlock, despite the fact that you insisted on putting the skull at the top."

Sherlock huffed out a small laugh into John's neck, "It's the best part of the tree."

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

John carefully twisted out of Sherlock's grasp and went over to the oven to take out the cookies. He carefully placed the two trays on top the stove to cool, and turned off the oven. He took a deep breath and turned around to face Sherlock, "Okay now if you want-"

Sherlock didn't even let him finish his sentence. He grabbed John and immediately began kissing him fervently, sliding his tongue into John's open mouth. He cupped John's crotch and began rubbing it slowly, teasingly. John gasped and leaned into Sherlock's touch.

Sherlock carefully moved John over to the now clean table and pushed John against it. Carefully he began rutting their clothed crotches together, burying his face in John's neck and taking a deep whiff of the scent of gingerbread and cinnamon.

"You really like the smell of the cookies, don't you Sherlock?" John snickers.

"Yea," Sherlock says throatily, "I like it so much, I'll just take you here where the scent is most concentrated."

"You romantic," John rolls his eyes, but then freezes, "Sherlock I just cleaned this table we are not having sex on it!"

Sherlock growls a little bit and nips at John's neck, rolling their hips together. John's head falls back a little bit and Sherlock grins, "I'll clean it up," he promises.

Apparently that's all it takes, because in the next moment John is wrapping his legs around Sherlock and pressing himself as close as he possibly can, grinding against Sherlock frantically. Sherlock groans and captures John's mouth in a hot kiss, sucking at his lower lip and then gently biting it.

John pops the button on Sherlock's pants and strokes his length through his underwear. Sherlock lets out a needy sound as John keeps stroking him. Slowly, John allows his hand to slip into Sherlock's underwear, grabbing hold of his length. Sherlock gasped and he sagged slightly into John.

"John," Sherlock gasps.

John just hums lazily and keeps touching Sherlock, taking his time. For a couple of minutes, this is all that happens. Lazy kissing and stroking each other softly, building up to what is about to happen next. Finally, Sherlock moves back and shucks off his clothes, watching John fumbling to do the same. As soon as they're both naked, they're reaching for each other. Sherlock holds John tightly, and moves down, licking and biting all the way to John's crotch. John lets out a low whine and leans against the table for support.

Sherlock takes John's length and begins to suck on the head, giving it his full attention. John curls his hand into Sherlock's hair and begs, "Please Sherlock, please!"

Sherlock's mouth curves around John and he slowly begins to take him into his mouth. Sherlock finally takes all of him in his mouth and then he swallows. John almost goes boneless, his arms barely holding him up anymore. Sherlock frantically begins sucking John off, eagerly sucking and licking all the pre-cum.

"Sherlock, oh g-Sherlock," John moans, "I think I'm going to-ahh!" He twitches as Sherlock gives his length a particularly hard suck. But suddenly the warmth around him is gone and John whines in disappointment. He hazily looks down at Sherlock, who is grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Sherlock stands up and gently brushes his hands over John's nipples, playing with them for a few moments. John leans forward and kisses Sherlock, tasting his pre-cum in Sherlock's mouth. It isn't quite a pleasant taste but it still arouses John.

Sherlock's hands begin to wander down, and they eventually reach down to cup John's butt cheeks. Sherlock slowly strokes John's hole and he murmurs, "Where's the lube and condoms?"

"Top drawer," John ignores Sherlock's amused look, "I had to put them there considering what happened last weekend."

"That was a fun time, we should do it again," Sherlock regretfully moves away from John to grab the lube and condom. John hums his agreement and jumps onto the table, grabbing his legs and pulling them open so that Sherlock has quick access.

It's worth it when Sherlock turns around and his breath catches at the sight of John open for him. He swiftly opens the condom and places it on himself. Sherlock squirts a generous amount of lube on his hands, spreading some of it on his own dick.

Sherlock stands in front of John and gently prods at him with a lubed finger. John groans and throws his head back, "C'mon Sherlock, we're past this point right now. Just fuck me with your fingers."

"You shouldn't say that John, I'll just make you cum with my fingers," Sherlock says hoarsely.

"You'd better not you bastard, it's Christmas Ever and I had better get you inside of me," John growls.

"What does Christmas Eve have anything to do about it?" Sherlock says idly, slowly slipping one of his fingers in and out of John.

"It just does-ahhh, mmmm," John is silenced by Sherlock suddenly placing another finger in and stepping up the pace. Sherlock watches John as he puts one last finger in, and John's mouth suddenly forms into an 'O' shape and he groans and twists a little bit, pushing back on Sherlock's fingers.

"Just fuck me now Sherlock!" John suddenly shouts. Sherlock pulls out his fingers and aligns himself with John, and then pushes in.

John is so warm and even now he's still a little tight. Sherlock continues to push until he's all the way in John, leaning over him and caressing his body.

"John," Sherlock mumbles. John's eyes meet Sherlock's, and his meets Sherlock's mouth with his own for a dirty kiss.

Sherlock pulls out of John, and then rams back in, causing John to go breathless, arching into him. Sherlock pulls out again and then sets a quick pace, thrusting in and out of John furiously, not allowing him a moment to breathe. John is gasping and desperately grabbing at Sherlock's back for some sort of leverage.

It's when John suddenly lets out a slightly higher gasp than the others that Sherlock knows he found John's prostate. He quickly rearranges his stance and begins thrusting back in that direction, hoping to hit it again. John's eyes almost seem to mist over with pleasure and he is letting out the most obscene groans. Although to be fair, Sherlock's making some pretty dirty noises himself. John is clenching around him, pulling him in as though he never wants him to leave. Sherlock almost regrets pulling out each time.

John orgasms suddenly, his body jerking upward as his cum leaks out. Sherlock slows down his thrusts and quickly fists John's length and milks out his cum, helping him to finish his orgasm. John whines and buries his head in Sherlock's neck, letting out little gasps as he completes his orgasm.

While John is still slightly blissed out, Sherlock resumes his quicker thrusts, on the edge but not quite there. John raises his head and then pulls Sherlock in for another kiss. Sherlock can taste the sweetness of the cookie batter as John presses his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, his tongue and Sherlock's twining together and pressing against each other. They're both panting and desperately kissing each other when Sherlock finally comes. A slight whiteness enters his vision and he's left slumping over John on the table, both of them exhausted.

"I think that just entered my top ten," John manages to get out.

Sherlock chuckles and lazily kisses him.

"I'm wondering if those cookies are going to be an aphrodisiac for you," John lets out a huff when Sherlock slips out of him. Sherlock takes off the condom and throws it out. John watches him lazily from the table as Sherlock walks shakily over to the sink, grabbing a towel to clean them both up.

"Probably, we'll have to test it out later," Sherlock grins at John, who smiles back.

**~SHERLOCK~**

After Sherlock cleans them both up, they relocate to the living room where Mycroft's presents are still sitting underneath the tree.

"Should we open them now, or wait until late?" John eyes them.

"I don't see why we should wait. Mycroft certainly didn't wait to open his." Sherlock shrugs. John nods in agreement and grabs them both, handing Sherlock his.

Together they rip the packages open. Mycroft had given them the cellphones, although it was a brand John didn't recognize.

"Probably some secret government cellphone that's hard to break, near impossible to track, and a lot of other useful but useless functions," Sherlock says, eyeing his phone.

"Well our phones do tend to get banged up quite a bit, so I hope these can keep up with us." John muses.

"I did warn you that one time that the case was going to get messy," Sherlock reminded him.

John rolled his eyes and snorted, "You could've told me we were going down into the sewers instead of being vague about it!"

Sherlock only shrugs and begins to fiddle with his new phone, quickly adding the few contacts from his old phone.

They sit and work out their new phones together for the next hour. Everything is peaceful and John is completely relaxed, watching with amusement as Sherlock begins to learn how to use the search engine on his cellphone. Soon it begins snowing, and John watches as it slowly falls to the ground, steadily covering everything in white.

Sometime near five o'clock Sherlock is finished figuring out the phone, and John goes into the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea. When he comes back out with two steaming mugs, he also has a small plate of cookies in his hands.

Sherlock eyes the cookies, and then looks at John.

"Not until we finish our tea," John says, and Sherlock actually laughs.


End file.
